The Great Grey Solstice Wolf

 

 

            It was the shortest day of the year. Twilight hung in the trees like fog. Neither light nor quite dark, the day dallied over the decision. To go, or to linger, as if it had a choice.
            Out of this matrix of grey, this ambivalent atmosphere, one came strolling. If you had been there looking, you might not have noticed his quiet approach.
            His head was low and broad, sweeping from side to side just a bit. The eyes were green, or maybe gold, shining in the gloom. He was tall for a canid. His coat was rough. Seen closely it would have looked darker than the twilight. His tail hung loose and brushy. This was no curly tailed dog. Over his shoulders hung a shaggy area like some warrior’s winter cape.
            He smelled smoke and with it cooking meat. It had been a day or so since he had eaten. Still, he stopped to read the scene.
            Looking down into the space between the huge firs, he saw a fire being tended by a kind of woman, a forest woman. The scent of  her fire and her food filled his mind with longing.  Still, he sat watching her move around. As he watched, children came to her side. So, a mother.
            Two full grown pumas entered the campsite. But they committed no mischief. Instead, they seemed to be bonded to the family.
            He began to have a feeling that the father, the captain, of this group must be somewhere nearby, and that he had neglected to ascertain his location. This could be a fatal error. Maybe not, but this father wouldn’t have left his family exposed.
            From somewhere back in the trees he heard someone very large clear his throat. Then, “hey, wolf, come here.  I’d like to talk with you. Peace.”
            The great grey wolf walked slowly into the trees in the direction of the deep voice. He felt drawn. He was still hungry, but he had been hungry before. No matter. This invitation interested him.
            Looming, but seated, in the gloomy dimness was the leader of that pack down by the fire. His appearance was terrifyingly large and dark until he spoke.
            “Have a seat, wolf. Up here. By me,” said the huge figure, with careless warmth in his voice. He patted a spot on the large downed log where he sat, with his hand. So, agreeably, the wolf made a great leap and landed up there beside the forest man. They regarded one another eye to eye.
            What the wolf saw; deeply set large brown eyes, a wide face, broad nose, a typical male pattern of dark hair around the face and chin. Not much of a neck. Very wide shoulders, but a figure that was deep from front to back also. A big torso covered in long fine dark wavy hair. Then of course the big legs and feet. He smelled of resin and perhaps forest loam.
            What the forest man saw, as described before. A larger than average male grey wolf, with no fear in his eyes, but some sort of Ur level wisdom. Since he was relaxed, his tongue lolled out of his mouth, and he waited to see what would happen next.
            “Say, wolf, how would you like to be a speaking wolf? It’d be easier to have a chat if you could talk,” said the big guy, eyebrows up inquiringly.
            Now, the wolf had surely not expected that. But, being a rather special wolf and wise, he nodded and gave a soft “wuff” a couple of times.
            So the big guy put his hand on the wolf’s throat and sang a song that he had dreamed up a few days ago called the Talking Song. This was the very first time he had sung it for an animal, and he was pretty excited to see how it worked, or if it worked.
            When he had finished singing all the verses, he opened his eyes and looked at the wolf.   
            “So, how do you feel?  Want to try talking? It might feel funny at first, but I think you’ll figure it out and it’s mostly like thinking anyhow, with sounds.”
            “Throat feels wrong,” said the wolf.
            “Not surprised,” said Ralph, encouragingly. “Try again!”
            “Hungry,” said the wolf. He was starting to like this. He began to understand the possibilities of it.
            “You’re doing great!” chortled Ralph. “Hey, do you have a name?”
            “Never needed one. Was just the best wolf I could be,” said the wolf.
            “Still don’t need one,” he continued.
            “Maybe if I was going to stay here and needed to talk, I would need a name,” he said.
            “Oh, makes sense. But since you’re hungry, let’s go down to the cookfire and see what my Ramona has cooked up.  She always makes a lot because she knows I might bring someone home with me!”
            “I don’t want to frighten her, or make her angry, or frighten the children or those big cats either,” said Wolf. “I will come if by doing so I do no harm.”
            “Nah, Ramona’s cool, Wolf. And if she’s not scared the kids and the cats will be cool too! Don’t give it another thought,” said Ralph, already hopping down from his throne and getting ready to head to the fire.
            “Let’s go give em a thrill,” said Ralph happily. “I’m hungry too!”
            “OK, then,” said Wolf getting into the spirit of the thing, quite enthusiastically.